A Christmas Story of Robert and His Two Sybils
by JessieBess
Summary: The effect Sybil and then Sybbie have on Robert's Christmases.


There had been a time when he looked forward to the Christmas season. The main rooms of the house were bedecked with trees and wreaths and boughs of holly and even a sprig or two of mistletoe. Much of the greenery was wrapped or draped with ribbons and bows of bright red or white or festive plaids. Colorful glass Christmas bulbs and cut crystal snowflakes and icicles were not only on the trees but interspersed throughout the decorations. Even the bannister of the grand staircase was draped with garlands of pine wrapped with red ribbons and bows. All the fresh greenery filled the rooms with the scent of pine. It seemed that wherever one looked there were colorful displays giving the house a festive feel and the scent of pine lingered in the air.

It was a time of parties and receptions. Guests dined on foods of the season, wild game and chestnuts, minced pies and mulled wine, rich fruit and nut cakes aged in brandy or whiskey.

Most of all the house was filled with laughter. He was always amused how well behaved his girls were in light of the threat that Father Christmas was keeping watch. Even Mary and Edith seemed to call a truce to their usual bickering although there would always be a minor scrape or two.

Yes there was a time when Robert looked forward to Christmas.

 **1901**

Robert lowered his newspaper and glanced out the window. It was a sign that winter was closing in that even at this hour of the morning the sky was just beginning to lighten although the sun was not yet visible. He thought of having a second helping of eggs when sounds of something loudly clattering across the grand hall caught his attention. Frowning he looked at Carson who was standing as if on guard at the sideboard which held warming trays containing eggs, sausages, and, as another sign of winter, oatmeal but before either man could make an utterance the door blew open as if a gale wind had suddenly passed through the grand hall.

A mixture of surprise and puzzlement crossed both Robert's and Carson's faces as they realized this gale wind was little Lady Sybil.

"I'm ready Papa" Sybil gaily cried out oblivious to the bewildered stares of her father and the rigid butler.

Robert was flabbergasted at the sight of Sybil standing there in a blue and white checked dress the buttons of which were not properly aligned, a green jumper, brown wooly socks covering her legs above her mid-calf leather boots of which half the buttons were undone. Her long unruly hair had obviously not been brushed before being pulled back and loosely tied with a pink ribbon from which numerous long strands had escaped.

Looking more closely he realized the dress was on backwards causing him to blurt out "Your dress is on backwards."

To which Sybil blithely replied to his remarking of such "how else could I have buttoned it myself?" As if to emphasize that she looked down at her dress, ran her right hand down the row of buttons and then looked up at her father with a nod and a smile of self-satisfaction.

Still not understanding why his daughter was dressed, or maybe mis-dressed would have been a more appropriate description, in such a haphazardly fashion, Robert frowned. "You dressed yourself? Where is nanny?"

Sybil rolled her eyes. "Oh she's busy with Mary and Edith who are fighting over something and I didn't want to be late and you go without me so I did it myself." She smiled as she looked down at her dress and ran her hands down the side of her dress.

"Be late for what?"

Now standing beside him, Sybil widened her eyes in alarm as she looked at her father. "You haven't forgotten!" she exclaimed as she touched his arm. "You said today was the day we get the tree."

With a sigh and an "aah" Robert leaned back in his chair. Of course he hadn't forgotten, how could he have forgotten considering every day for the past two weeks Sybil had pestered him about getting the Christmas tree.

In a fluid movement, he picked her up and set her on his lap. "Of course I haven't forgotten. But …" he twisted so they both could see out the window where the sky was still entwined with that strange mixture of patches of lightness among the darkness. "It's much too early to go out in the forest as it's only now getting light."

He tousled the top of her head. "Why don't you have breakfast and then go upstairs and have Nanny help you into some warmer clothing and then it will be time to go."

xxx

Selecting the tree that would grace the grand hall was usually a rather perfunctory affair but as the owner of the estate and Lord of the Manor, Robert thought it was something he should do. The head groundskeeper would have selected two or three trees for Robert to cursorily inspect and make a decision. Selecting a tree with five year old Sybil in tow was not so perfunctory. She reviewed each tree from every angle imaginable and from varying distances. She rubbed the needles deciding she liked the softer ones better. She sniffed the branches wanting one whose scent would permeate that entire hall.

Two hours later a cold and shivering but very happy Sybil returned to Downtown where she and her father were ushered into the library for hot chocolate and biscuits. Robert opted for a very large brandy instead. 

**January 1920**

"I'll be up in a minute" Robert said as he watched Cora leave the library. He knew he should have gone with her but he wanted a moment alone to consider what she had said. Walking over to the drinks trolley he reached for the brandy before deciding a stiff whiskey would be better. He could still hear faint sounds of laughter coming from the grand hall where a few of the servants still lingered enjoying the last of the annual servant's ball. It had been a grand evening with plenty of laughs and drinking and dancing but as Robert stood by the drinks trolley, the first sip of the whiskey warming his throat, his thoughts turned to the one who wasn't here.

" _It isn't what I wanted for her. None of it is. But this is what's happened and we must accept it."_

He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself, he had tried to cover up it up, sometimes with forced gaiety, but it was always there lurking in the background. It had begun that day a weeks ago when he had gone to select this year's tree for the grand hall.

For the first time in what almost twenty years he had gone alone and as he stood there looking at the fine pine tree he wasn't seeing it but rather her.

As the years went by Sybil's enthusiasm for picking out the Christmas tree never wavered. It had become an annual outing for father and daughter who spent far more time talking and drinking hot chocolate than debating which tree was the right one. Even during the war when he hesitated on whether there should be a Christmas tree in the grand hall, Sybil was insistent on doing so. She had said it would give the patients a bit of normalcy and erase, if even for just a little while, the horrors of war.

But a bit of anger surfaced as he thought of last year. They had walked among the trees bantering as usual. She had given no hint that she had fallen in love with the chauffeur. No hint of what she was about to do.

That anger had intruded on all of this year's festivities, sometimes at the oddest moments, sometimes at more expected ones like when Edith had blurted out at Christmas dinner when Carson entered with the flaming pudding that it was Sybil's favorite.

" _I want to go over there. And I want Sybil to come here."_

" _And the chauffeur?"_

" _Him too."_

Robert took a gulp of his whiskey. She was now in Ireland living a life alien to him, to her family, to everything she had been raised. And now she was with child. It was a child he wouldn't accept, a child that would never be one of them. He finished his whiskey. She had made her choice.

 **1922**

With only the embers of the dying fire in the fireplace emitting any light, the room was bathed in shadows. Robert sat alone on the red sofa sipping his whiskey. He was not a man of deep thought nor was he a man given to introspection but tonight the past haunted him. It had been so long since he had truly enjoyed what was supposed to be this most happiest of times.

He had thought the nadir was 1919 when Sybil's absence had shadowed his holidays never expecting what the next year would bring. Now she was gone forever and then that grief was deepened by Matthew's untimely death. The grief had been so strong they hadn't even pretended to enjoy the holidays those years. There had been no trees, no wreaths, no decorations.

This year Cora had insisted they start anew. It was a modest effort compared to past years. Although there was garland and ribbons draped on the bannister of the grand staircase there was no tree. There was the smaller family tree in the library and the look of pure joy on Sybbie's face when she saw the lighted tree for the first time made the effort bearable.

 **1925**

The blustery winds of the past few days had finally disappeared replaced by a bright sunshine that warmed the December air enough to enable Robert to enjoy his morning ramble with Isis in tow. He was often accompanied by Sybbie on these morning ramblings but she had been sidelined by a cold these past few mornings.

After giving his coat and hat to Carson and chucking his fur lined boots for more appropriate house wear, he walked into the grand salon and was instantly awed by the sight for Downton was once again decked out in its most festive attire. Stopping to admire the scene Robert couldn't help but smile. It seemed as if every imaginable surface of the grand salon had been covered in wreaths or boughs of holly or garlands of pine all wrapped with bright red ribbons and streamers. Of course dominating the scene was the magnificent fir tree that extended beyond the balcony railings and almost to the ceiling.

The selection of the tree had been made by Sybbie whose joy of Christmas easily matched that of her mother's. It was Sybbie who accompanied Robert into the woods of the estate to select this year's tree. It was Sybbie that so enthusiastically participated in decorating the tree with its many bulbs and ornaments and whose joy and enthusiasm seemed to ignite those around her that also participated.

Robert felt so festive he thought maybe he'd put a spot of brandy in the tea Carson had said would be momentarily brought to the library along with some of that walnut cake aged in whiskey that Robert was so fond of. Nothing like a spot of brandy, warm tea, and a glowing fire to help shed the seasonable coldness of the outside weather thought Robert yet entering the library he was immediately struck by the unaccustomed chill in the air.

Instead of the expected steady fire there was a small shape laying on the floor with its head in the unlit fireplace.

"What the devil?" he blurted out before realizing the small shape was his granddaughter.

When such realization finally dawned on him it was "Syybbiiee? Get out of there right now!"

Undeterred by the forcefulness in her grandfather's voice, Sybbie took another minute or two before slowly backing up then coming to a sitting position. With smudges of black on her face and hands, the frown on her face conveying her distress, Sybbie cried out "It won't fit. It just won't."

Still baffled Robert managed to utter a faint "what?" before Sybbie continued "if he can't bring it with him then …" She seemed on the verge of a few sniffles as she looked at her grandfather.

Robert sat down on the sofa and gestured for Sybbie. Pulling her up into his lap he gently ran his hand down her cheek carefully avoiding the smudges of black soot "now what is it that has you so upset?"

"Daddy took me to the shop this morning and I saw the bicycle I want for Christmas." As she began to describe the red bicycle the sniffles were replaced with gleeful animation until she glanced at the fireplace. "But it won't fit in the chimney."

Now Robert was a bundle of confusion wondering what the bicycle had to do with the chimney. Sybbie slipped off his lap and gestured towards the fireplace. "If Father Christmas can't bring it down the chimney then I won't get it" she spoke as tears once again formed in her eyes.

The realization of Sybbie's perceived dilemma finally hit Robert whose first reaction was to chuckle. "Donk!" Sybbie turned to him with her hands on her hips and her eyes ablaze. "It's not funny."

"Oh darling" Robert pulled her into a hug. "Father Christmas has special powers and I'm sure he'll be able to do it."

This seemed to brighten the child "really Donk. He can do it?"

"I'm certain there will be a bright red bicycle perched by the tree on Christmas morning."

He glanced around the library, his sight settling on the gaily decorated family tree that stood in front of one of the tall windows. The tree which once only held the most elegant of glass ornaments now had brightly colored ribbon balls and handmade cutouts of snowflakes. Gingerbread figures had been raised higher out of the reach of little grandchildren as well as Isis.

He attention turned back to his granddaughter. "Now tell me about this bicycle you want so badly."

He smiled as he watched his vivacious granddaughter, so much like her mother in looks and actions, animatedly describe her desired present. He knew the future held scraped knees and elbows that would need to be kissed. He knew there would be stockings blackened with grease. He knew there would be a few tantrums when the bike didn't go in a straight path. He could almost hear that delightful twinkling of her laughter as she flew by him pedaling just as hard as her little legs would go.

He couldn't wait for Christmas morning.

For Robert Christmas had once again become that most magical of time.


End file.
